This weekend, while the truckers tackle Nashville (yawn) the Cupsters and claims jumpers make their way up north to Watkins Glen.

As a road course, Watkins Glen is what it is: a place with a few passing areas and a lot of follow me boys territory in-between.  The race this weekend is sponsored by Centurion Boats which given how one usually needs a boat to get around the facility after one of the seemingly obligatory weekend rainstorms is quite apropos.  NASCAR first ran here in 1959, a moment in time I've grown rather fond of despite the number of years separating then and now growing, alas, ever larger.  The usual ringers will ply their trade this weekend, although given how most are inept at driving in the bullrings NASCAR usually visits perhaps a different nickname should be used.  Watkins Glen has seen many memorable moments during its assorted excursions into stock car land.  Unfortunately, one of them consists of J.D. McDuffie's last ride.

In theory, this being a road course should offset the pain that plagues the new car, although given how the same was said before Infineon a wait and see attitude (as in wait and see if someone actually can pass someone else) is advised.  The steadfast refusal of NASCAR to so much as admit there's a competition problem this year, let alone address it has become a sad running joke bearing the punchline "Oh, they are running?  I thought the warm-up lap had been extended by three and a half hours."

Favorites?  Both Gordons (Jeff and Robby) along with Tony Stewart are all top notch road course racers looking to break their season-long schnide.  Juan Pablo Montoya, assuming Chip Ganassi gives him something other than a hooptie to run which is a fearless albeit flawed assumption these days, is a contender provided he can avoid a repeat of last year's race in which he and Kevin Harvick did their best impersonation of The Contender.  It's a stretch equipment-wise given his team's very part-time status, but it's difficult to dismiss the notion that Boris Said is going to win one of these things one of these days.  Slightly but only slightly less hampered by a bad ride is Marcos Ambrose.  It's not outside the realm of possibility the Tasmanian Devil might tear a path in Brett Farve's new home that will lead to Victory Lane.

Token photo of Brett Farve holding his new Jets jersey,
thus proving this is a sports blog after all.

Enjoy the weekend, everyone.